


let me kiss your cheek and chin and tell you i forgive you

by greywardenblue



Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: F/F, Hopeful Ending, No AKF spoilers, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27758419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywardenblue/pseuds/greywardenblue
Summary: “Marianne.” She said the name like it tasted of the finest wine in Faerie.
Relationships: The Luidaeg/Marianne (October Daye)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 20
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	let me kiss your cheek and chin and tell you i forgive you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Seawitchkaraoke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seawitchkaraoke/gifts).



> Much thanks to Trialia, MikoAlanna and Zahri for betaing this.

Marianne would always remember how they met that day, on the shore. She would remember the conversation, and how Annie looked, and what she was wearing, and how her eyes shone. 

She would remember a few months later when the green eyes turned to blue, when she learned the truth and the sea witch stood before her and expected her to run. She didn’t. A few days later she came back with wine, and the Luidaeg let her in.

"What is it now?" the Luidaeg snarled as she opened the door.

Marianne smiled. "Rough day?"

The frown was replaced by a tired smile, and the Luidaeg stepped aside to let her in. "It's starting to look up. Are those doughnuts?"

"The best ones."

They settled on the couch and the Luidaeg rested her head on Marianne's shoulder, closing her eyes. Marianne played with the strands of dark hair that were slightly damp to the touch, like the Luidaeg had just washed her hair and it hadn’t quite dried yet. Maybe she did, or maybe it was simply a sign of her exhaustion.

"Tell me about it," Marianne said gently.

The Luidaeg groaned, unwilling to talk. But after a while, she started. "Selfish people. Sick children. Pureblood nobles rotten to the core who got themselves into trouble, and they think my price will be kinder than the humiliation they'd suffer if they tried to solve it on their own. Foolish people asking me for poisons and the like." She smiled a sharp smile. "They don't always decide my price is worth it, but at that point, I can punish them for backing out of the deal."

She fell quiet, and Marianne held her. It could have been concerning, or even terrifying to hear Faerie's biggest monster speak of punishing people with joy, but Marianne knew that it was her only desperate defense against being used.

"What about the children?" she asked.

The Luidaeg sighed. "They'll live." And that could have been dismissive or callous, but Marianne had learned to hear the relief beneath the words, even if it was mixed with bitterness.

"I could have your children." For a moment, Marianne wasn't sure where those words came from. Did she really say them? They were both women, yes, but that had never stopped the Firstborn, the gods and goddesses who spun children out of sea-foam and tears. For a moment she was struck by her own brazenness, the shamelessness of offering to be the mother of a new race so easily.

The Luidaeg didn't speak. She stayed still against Marianne's side for a few moments, then got up from the couch. "Never say that to me again," she said quietly, and Marianne never did.

King Gilad was on good terms with the local Undersea Duke - it was not unheard of to run into an Undersea messenger in his halls.

“What a beautiful child,” said the Selkie man, smiling at Arden in Marianne’s arms. “May I hold her for a moment?”

Marianne let him. Why would she not? Arden _was_ a beautiful child, and the Selkie man cooed over her happily. The Roane woman accompanying her smiled and caressed Arden’s cheek.

“Beautiful child,” she agreed. “May they be happy and loved while they can. The rose’s thorns travel a long way.”

The Selkie man looked horrified. “Mary! I’m really sorry,” he said to Marianne. “She tends to be cryptic like that. You learn to take it with a grain of salt.”

But she was Roane, and Roane told the future. Marianne couldn’t get it out of her head.

The Luidaeg smiled, but it disappeared when she saw Marianne’s face. “You’ve come to ask me something,” she said.

“Just this once,” Marianne said, but she knew what a weak excuse that was.

The Luidaeg didn’t look at her. “Well? Out with it, then.”

“The children, Arden and Nolan. I fear they are in danger.”

“Children are always in danger,” the Luidaeg said dismissively. “Do you know how dangerous the world is when everything is bigger and crueler than you, and everything looks so delicious to eat?”

“I’ve been a nursemaid and a mother,” Marianne snapped. “I _know_ all of that. But this is different, Annie. A Roane woman came to Gilad’s halls. She took Arden in her arms and said…” The Luidaeg looked at her with wide eyes then turned her head quickly when she mentioned the Roane, but Marianne pushed. “She said that the children should be happy and loved while they can. She said that the rose’s thorns travel a long way…”

“No,” the Luidaeg said, closing her eyes. “Stop it. _Stop_. Not today. Not ever, but not today.”

“She wouldn’t tell me anything else, no matter how I asked. I want something that will keep them safe. I will pay anything.”

“You said you wouldn’t ask me anything,” the Luidaeg.

 _I didn’t promise_ , Marianne thought, but the words died in her throat.

“And now you come to me with this. You ask me to _protect other people’s children_ , today of all days, the day mine…”

Marianne’s heart ached. She hadn’t known it was the anniversary, but she thought of Arden’s laugh and Nolan’s quiet smile…

“I will pay,” she said.

“And I can’t say no,” the Luidaeg said. “You know I can’t say no. But Marianne, my love, my heart. Today of all days, I cannot give you a kind price. I cannot.”

“Tell me.”

The Luidaeg shook her head. “I will give you something to protect them. But from the day you give it to them, to the day it stops protecting them, you will not remember me. You will know me only as the sea witch, terror of children.”

Marianne’s heart dropped to her stomach. “But that’s not you. That is a lie.”

The Luidaeg smiled, and Marianne could see her teeth looked sharper than they usually did. “Is it? I do not tell lies.”

“You don’t. But other people do, and you don’t correct them. You don’t tell lies, but you don’t always tell the truth. You can’t tell it to people who never ask, those who never bother to listen.” Marianne shook her head. “Name another price. Please, name another.”

The Luidaeg looked broken, like a ship torn apart by the incoming tide. “I can’t, Marianne. You know that already. Once the price is named, it can be accepted or not, but it cannot be changed. I can’t even say I’m sorry, because right now, I’m not.”

“I will remember you,” Marianne said, “Once they don’t need the charms anymore. Once they set it aside. That is what you’re saying? I will remember everything then?”

“It is the deal,” the Luidaeg said. “Of course, you may have moved on by then.”

“Nobody moves on from you, Annie.”

The Luidaeg smiled sadly. “That’s only fair, isn’t it? Neither do I.”

They stared at each other. Then Marianne said, “I accept your price.”

“Your nursemaid,” the Luidaeg said. “What was her name?”

It wasn’t technically lying to ask questions she already knew the answer to. That was one of the loopholes.

“Marianne,” Arden said.

“Marianne.” There were so many other questions she could have asked. “She used me to hide you. Your brother didn’t stay within the wards, and someone else used me to hurt him.”

Where was she now? Where did she go, once she left the children?

“Faerie might do better if all the Firstborn were gone, don’t you think?”

"Nolan, have you been to the Duchy of Ships before?"

The Luidaeg wasn't really listening. She already told the boy he wasn't invited, and she was cranky enough about the unexpected guests - but at the end of the day, it wasn't worth arguing. They could tag along and get a nice trip out of it, or drown on the way there, it would not make a difference. The Convocation could not be stopped, not by anyone, not even by her.

"Yes, Sir Daye, once. Long ago. It was a short trip, taken in company of my nursemaid, Marianne. I travel in my sister’s name, but I am, I admit, hopeful that perhaps someone there might remember her, and be able to tell me where she’s gone. We would welcome her home, if she were willing to return."

The Luidaeg closed her eyes, and did not voice her agreement.

Today, there are Roane in the waters again. They have eyes the green of kelp, and they are still uncertain in the waters. They're used to wearing seal skins, but they aren't used to working their new magic yet. They aren't used to not having to wear their connection to Faerie like bracelets or belts. They are still the descendants of the murderers, except for the delightful few that came from her own body. That will not change.

But today, all around the Duchy of Ships, there are Roane in the waters again, and more of them than she ever thought possible. Through the love of a mother, a sister and a niece together, because she could not have done this alone, she could not have found the hole in her own promise. She closes her eyes and smiles, and her tears mix with the salt water.

She hears the footsteps behind her but doesn't look to see who it is, not even when she feels the person sit down next to her. They sit there in silence for a while.

"My mother said you cannot lie," Diva says.

The Luidaeg opens her eyes. "I can lie to you," she says, and she's telling the truth. "I can lie to all the Selkies and to the Roane, if I need to. I can't lie to your human kin, but I didn't have to. I let them assume, and never corrected them. I can lie by omission."

Diva is fidgeting with a wooden toy and she doesn't look up. "You said you love me," she says.

That one is easy. "I do love you." She could point out that she just explained how she can lie, how it doesn't have to be truth. But she doesn't.

Diva looks up to meet her eyes, then she moves in close, and, _oh_. Diva's arms fit around her easily, and she can hear the girl breathe next to her ear and she has to swallow back her tears. She returns the hug, and they sit there for a few long moments before Diva gets up, smiles shakily, then leaves a bit faster than needed. She doesn't mind. It will take time, she knows, but maybe... maybe.

She threatened to hurt Diva if she didn't let go, back before the Convocation, but that was because of the people watching. This time, when she gets up from where she was sitting, she knows that nobody saw them.

And it's a good thing she doesn't say it, because she realizes it's not true when she turns her head. There is a woman standing near the entrance, her eyes fixed on the Luidaeg. They stare at each other for a moment, then they each take a step closer at the same time.


End file.
